Prince the Pimpleface
by SushiBomb
Summary: Fran never missed an opportunity to drag Belphegor's self-esteem through the proverbial mud. He had been getting rusty anyway. That's what the dumb prince gets for eating his weight in pizza. CRACK. Enjoy. Rated for Language and Varia-ness.


A/N: I've been working on this for a couple of days, strictly for laughs. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Thank every God you know for that.

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Prince the Pimpleface

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Fran wasn't one to lose his cool very often, if ever. But obviously, this was shaping up to be one of those rare times where the mist illusionist would reach the fine line between mild impatience and full-on irritation. He had been standing out here in the hallway now for a grand total of almost ten minutes knocking on Belphegor's door and so far, he had been told to 'go away' and/or 'fuck off' at least twenty times.

Needless to say, this was getting really old, really fast.

_Knock knock._

"Sempaaaaiii….can you please come out? The meeting already started and everyone's waiting for you."

The illusionist's eye gave an uncharacteristic twitch in annoyance when he heard the muffled 'get lost' from inside the room. If he showed up at the meeting room without the arrogant blonde prince in tow, he was more than certain Xanxus would flay his ass. Fran took off his trademark frog hat and felt around inside, giving a little 'aha!' when he found what he was looking for. The mint haired youth pulled out a pin.

He crouched down and inspected the lock for a minute before sticking the pin in the keyhole. He heard the prince shout something from behind the door.

"Don't you pick that lock, froggy." Fran smirked.

"Oh, I'm picking the lock."

After wiggling the pin around for a few minutes, he heard the lock click open.

"I'm coming in fake prince-sempai, you'd better not be naked."

_Wow, I can't believe I remember how to do that._ He though to himself as he pushed open the door. It was pitch black inside Belphegor's room, despite the fact that it was nearly three in the afternoon. At least it was, until Fran turned on the light. In the corner of the room by the window, Fran saw a human-sized lump under the luxurious silk sheets of the prince's bed.

He heard an annoyed growl reverberate from said lump.

"Get the hell out toad. Or I'll stab you somewhere extremely unpleasant." He heard the prince mutter as a tiara-less head of gold poked out from under the comforter. Fran ignored the threat and walked deeper into the room, stepping over random items littering the plush carpet and planted himself on the edge of the king sized bed.

He began slapping the older hitman's leg repeatedly.

"Sempai, get out of bed already. We have a new mission. Xanxus-sama and the others are waiting for us."

"I said no dammit. Go the hell away before I kill you."

"But Xanxus-sama will severely injure me if I show up without you."

"Ushishi~! All the more reason for me NOT to get up, toadface. Now scram."

Fran scrunched his lips in an annoyed pout. He sat up and promptly wrenched the sheet off of the grinning elite, who immediately rolled over and rammed his face into his pillow with a muffled 'NO!'

Fran grabbed one of the numerous pillows on the bed and started wacking the older man.

"Bel-sempaaaaiii…get up…sempaiii…" Wack.

"Sempaiii…" Wack.

"Sempaiii…" Wack.

"Sem-"

"Stop you motherfucker!" Belphegor shouted before snatching his sheet out of Fran's grip and sticking his face back into his pillow. Fran sighed, having worn himself out. Time to switch tactics. He crawled up on the bed and wriggled under the sheet next to the prince, and began poking him in the ribs. Belphegor immediately scooted away.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get off the prince's bed!"

"Only if you get up too, stupid-prince." Fran said as he scooted closer, pushing Bel to the edge. The older man shook his head, which was still mashed into the pillow. Then it clicked.

"Is something wrong with your face, sempai?" Belphegor snorted.

"Why would you think there was something wrong with the prince's beautiful, godly face, uncute kohai?"

"Well…for starters, you've been practically sucking face with your pillow since I came in the room...and you haven't stabbed me yet."

"…" Belphegor said nothing for a few moments before groaning pathetically. That usually meant he was going to reveal what was bothering him. Fran was rather surprised that the prince caved so quickly. Whatever the problem was, it must be pretty serious.

Fran thought he heard sniffles. Oh boy. Here come the melodramatics.

"I can't show my face in public, froggy. I'm hideous!" The blonde moaned without moving his face from the pillow. Fran poked him harder, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Like he didn't already know that.

"Well it can't be any worse than before, so get up. Before the long-haired commander comes and makes it even uglier." Fran said, jabbing his finger repeatedly into the blonde's ribcage. He saw a frigid glare from underneath the mop of gold.

"The prince's perfect countenance has been marred by a most unwelcome visitor." He grit out, making sure to keep the normally visible lower fraction of his face out of sight with the sheet. Fran cocked his head to the side, one slim eyebrow raised slightly.

"Meaning…?"

Belphegor sighed dejectedly.

"The prince will show you. And you better promise you won't laugh. Or I'll stab you to death in your sleep." Bel threatened. Fran raised a finger, opening his mouth to say something when the older hitman cut him off.

"-And no snide remarks either." Fran pouted, but nodded in the affirmative regardless. Belphegor sat up, letting the sheet drop down to his lap, revealing the rest of his boyish face. His lips were downturned in a frown. Fran just stared.

"So…what's wrong?" He asked, studying the prince's face. Belphegot made a disbelieving noise.

"What are you blind? Can't you see it?" The blonde snapped, pointing to certain spot in the corner of his chin. Fran leaned in a bit closer, inspecting the area. Sure enough, a little white pimple had made its home on the prince's face, the area around it slightly red from inflammation.

Fran's face deadpanned comically. That was it? He had put him through all of this trouble for that microscopic blemish?

The mist illusionist smirked inwardly at Belphegor's outrageous narcissism. Oh…this was just too good to pass up. He decided then that anything and everything he said from here on out was wholly deserved by the self-absorbed aristocrat for making him go through all of this drama. For a bloody pimple. He hadn't had a really good reason to insult the prince in a while, and he deigned to say he was getting a bit rusty. He planned to remedy that now.

There was nothing funner (or funnier) than taking the prince's over-inflated ego and taking a metaphorical shit on it. And here he had thought his day was going to suck.

"Damn that's a huge ass pimple."

All of the color immediately drained from the blonde assassin's face. He looked ready to throw himself out the window. Not that Fran would stop him, of course.

"Y-You said you wouldn't say anything!" Belphegor shrieked. He could see the little black devil wings sprout from Fran's back.

"I never said I wouldn't cross my fingers though." Fran came even closer. And did the unthinkable.

He poked it.

"Owww! You piece of shit! That hurt!"

"Well stupid prince, that's what happens when you eat your weight in greasy pizza." Fran said as-a-matter-of fact, cradling his head in his hands, still staring hard at the little zit. The night before, they had ordered in several boxes of pizza, and of course Belphegor had eaten nearly an entire box by himself. Belphegor made an annoyed sound.

"But you ate like a whole box too! Why don't you have any pimples?" He pointed at the illusionist in an accusatory manner. Fran tapped his scrunched lips, thinking for a minute before responding.

"Hmmm… I guess it's because I'm genetically superior."

Belphegor growled.

"How dare you imply that you're better than a prince! You're nothing but a shitty little amphibian!"

Fran didn't miss a beat.

"_Fake _prince. And **I'm** not the one with a lightbulb growing out of my chin."

The ripper laid back down in a huff, sniffling pathetically and moaning on about how hideously grotesque he was. Fran rolled his eyes. Oh for Christ's sake. How conceited could a person possibly be? It wasn't even that noticeable. Oh well, more fun for him. And he was really going to milk this for all it was worth.

"Is it really that big?" The blonde whispered glumly. Fran nodded, trying to keep a straight face. The fallen prince was such a stooge.

"Yeah, that thing needs its own zip code." The mist guardian smirked inwardly when he saw Belphegor's bottom lip begin to tremble.

"Can I pop it?" Fran suddenly asked, attempting to poke the barely visible zit again.

Belphegor almost fainted.

"WHAT? NO! Why the fuck would I let you pop it?"

"Come on, it'll be quick. You won't even feel it."

"No dammit! I'm not letting you scar my perfect face."

"Please sempai? It's no big deal… It's kinda like bubble-wrap, but just …on your face." Belphegor made a horrified sound as he slapped Fran's hand, which was inching closer, away.

"Keep your dirty fingers away, goddammit."

A sudden ring was heard from Fran's pocket. The mist illusionist pulled out his cell phone, gulping when he realized who was calling. He answered anyway, voice calm.

"Yeah long-haired commander, what is it?" He said before quickly pulling the phone away from his ear, lest he rupture his delicate ear-drum.

"_**VOOOOOIIIIIII! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO? HURRY UP!"**_ Came the typical Squalo response.

"Well I would, but Bel-sempai refuses to get out of bed."

"_**WHY?" **_ Fran sighed, feeling a headache coming on quickly.

"Because he has a pimple the size of the Colosseum on his face and he's embarrassed." He heard the moody rain guardian slap his face. Fran bit his lip when he felt several knives penetrate the atrocious frog hat.

"_**Are you fucking serious? Tell that dumbass to put a goddamn paper bag on his head and get the hell over here already! Before I skewer BOTH of you!"**_

And then the line went dead. Fran sighed again as he plucked out the seven knives embedded in his hat.

Belphegor stabbed him in the leg.

"The Colosseum, huh?" Fran nodded.

"Yeah ugly-sempai, that pimple could be the ninth wonder of the world." Belphegor forced a smile, clutching one of his knives very tightly.

"Ushishishi~… Froggy, you're really pushing it."

"Well if you don't want me to push it, do what the long-haired commander said and just put a paper bag over your head. That way, we won't all be forced to stare at your freakishly huge pimple."

Belphegor sniffed haughtily.

"Princes don't wear paper bags on their heads. I have my dignity! You all will just have to deal with it!" And with that, Belphegor sprung up from the bed, grabbing Fran as he did so, and marched determinedly out the door.

Fran's lips curled, making him look a lot like the grinch. That was exactly the response he had been counting on. Can't have his entertainment ending so soon, can he?

* * *

Belphegor felt the muscles in his face begin to ache from the strain of the smile he had continually forced throughout the meeting. As expected, as soon as they came in, Squalo had immediately berated them. The blonde prince didn't really mind that part, since he usually tuned the cranky rain guardian out most of the time anyway.

But Fran was another story altogether.

When the younger assassin wasn't directing everyone's attention to his face with his little quips, he was holding his hand up to Belphegor's face with one eye closed and his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth, making pinching motions with his thumb and index finger, like he was concentrating on squeezing something. Three guesses as to what he was picturing.

Belphegor grit his teeth.

He was going to be sure to lace the illusionist's dinner with Arsenic tonight.

"Sempaaaaiiii…" The younger illusionist droned in a voice just above a whisper when Xanxus's back was turned. Belphegor inadvertently snapped the pencil he had been holding.

"What, toad." He whispered back heatedly through clenched teeth. Fran stared at him, or more accurately his chin, with a perfectly deadpanned expression.

"Could you perhaps invest in some concealer, or maybe a band-aid? Pimple-zilla is staring at me." Belphegor swore he could feel steam coming out of his ears. This obnoxious little toad was really grating his nerves. Clearly, that was the objective the mist guardian had in mind. His green eyes stayed locked on the tiny blemish, grimacing like it was making him sick to even look at it.

"You know, you don't have to force yourself to stare at it, asshole." Belphegor snapped. Fran shrugged.

"It's bothering me. I was trying to pop it with telekinesis. To bad I'm not a psychic like Mammon was, huh?" Belphegor gasped, looking unbelievably appalled.

Xanxus, who had stopped talking to watch the little exchange, growled. Why did everyone feel the need to converse when he was talking? The irate Varia boss grabbed a pencap off of the table and launched the projectile right at the blonde prince's head. He smirked when it bounced off of his cheek, effectively startling the younger man.

Fran of course, never missed an opportunity to drag Belphegor's already crumbling self-esteem through the proverbial mud.

"Aw darn. Too bad Xanxus-sama didn't aim for your pimple, huh sempai? He probably could've popped it for you, and then you wouldn't look like an ugly blonde troll anymore."

"FRAN!" The prince shouted, having lost what little patience he already didn't have. Squalo smacked his forehead.

"Vooooiii kid, what's with you and that damn zit?"

Fran shrugged.

"Nothing, aside from the fact that it's obscenely huge and gross looking. Seriously idiot-commander, come over here and look at it. It looks like sempai injected it with the T-virus, and now it's like a genetically altered zombie pimple. Whoa! I think it got bigger since we left the room. How nasty. It's mutating."

The normally plucky royal's face went deathly pale. He sniffled miserably, what remained of his fragile ego effectively shattered with Fran's cutting jibes.

"I'm ugly!" The prince began wailing as he slammed his face into the table, crying loudly. Xanxus decided then that he should just give up for today. He walked out of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering angrily about 'idiotic trash subordinates.' Levi ran after him, naturally.

Lussuria, being the closest thing to a woman in the Varia, was quick to come to the prince's aid.

"Oh Bel honey, I'm sure it's not that bad! Let Lussuria nee-san take a peek~!" The flamboyant man said perkily. Squalo watched the martial artist fawn over the younger assassin's tear-stricken face, inspecting the 'zombie –pimple', all the while making little 'tsk tsk' noises and repremanding Fran for being so heartless. He sighed, cradling his head in his hands.

"Aww it's not that bad, Bel." Lussuria said in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. It was a little hard to keep the smile off of his face though. It _was _a bit noticeable.

"You shouldn't lie, Lussuria-san. That thing could stop a double-decker bus." Fran quipped from his seat. Bel promptly stood up and stormed out of the room, but not before unloading a barrage of knives into Fran's hat and back.

Screw Arsenic. He was going to season Fran's dinner with Cyanide. He could do with some instant gratification. And Arsenic takes way too long.

* * *

"Count Pustula-sempai, could you please sit somewhere else? I don't want to ruin my appetite with the site of your horribly misshapen visage." Was the first thing out of Fran's mouth at dinner that night.

Belphegor's already less than pleasant mood immediately soured beyond the point of return.

The prince supposed it was lucky for the snarky little tadpole that he hadn't had the time to acquire Cyanide or any other lethal chemical agent. He'd have to settle for stabbing him with silverware.

Which he did.

Fran bit the inside of his cheek to keep the smirk that was threatening to manifest itself off of his face. The blonde's outrage was worth the fork embedded in his shoulder. He plucked the cutlery out of his arm with a slight hiss, before mimicking what Lussuria had done earlier and 'tsktsk'-ed at the older assassin.

"I don't want Lussuria-san's exquisite spread to go to waste, sempai. You should go sit in the kitchen. Ugly fake princes with unsightly boils shouldn't be seen in public."

Belphegor grit his teeth, trying in vain to ignore the snitty jibes from the mint haired youth, as well as the hushed snickers around the table. He took a savage bite out of his Chateau Briant, set on enjoying his meal. But Fran was not one to be so easily brushed aside.

"Ewww…" The younger man started, leaning in close to Belphegor's face. Said prince backed away, scowling at the mist guardian.

"Wuhhh-" He snapped out around a mouthful of steak and pasta. Fran stared at him, face expressionless save for the slight furrowing of his thin eyebrows.

"Sempaaaii…I think it moved." Belphegor snarled.

"No it didn't, you fucking asshat. Stop bugging me." He said in aggravation, smacking Fran's face away and taking another animalistic bite of his dinner. Fran was undeterred.

"No really sempai, it did. Everytime you chew, it kinda wiggles a little. It reminds me of that old Jell-o commercial."

Belphegor's eye twitched noticeably when he heard a loud snort from somewhere around the table.

Fran continued on after taking a bite of his raviolis.

"You know which one I'm talking about, right Ogre-face sempai? Remember the little song? ~J-E-LL-O~. It's aliiiiiiive!" Fran sang the jingle, wiggling his fingers rhythmically for emphasis.

The other members of the assassination squad were openly laughing now. Even Xanxus, who had almost spit out his wine when Fran started singing the stupid little song, despite his residual irritation from having been interrupted earlier. Belphegor inwardly cursed them all to a fiery eternity in Hell. Even though he'd be right there next to them.

"You'd better sleep with one eye open tonight toad. Ushishishi~!" The ripper prince said threateningly, trying to salvage what remained of his obliterated ego. But he knew threatening the sarcastic mist guardian was like adding fuel to the fire.

"There's no way you'd be able to sneak into my room, fallen-prince. I'm sure your pimple glows in the dark too. Like a big neon sign."

That did it.

Belphegor promptly jumped out of his seat and dove across the table, brandishing his steak knife and tackled Fran to the floor.

The others just continued eating in relative peace, ignoring the savage beating of their new mist illusionist under the table.

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I know. I'm weird. Read and Review please!


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